


No Milk Today

by smilodonna



Category: American Gods (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:58:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilodonna/pseuds/smilodonna
Summary: Will examines a crime scene, "doing this thing he does". It's the Ripper again, who surprisingly presents himself as spiritually inclined...





	No Milk Today

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the silly title, I couldn't resist - though it isn't that fitting after all...

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The pendulum started swinging.

"I ring the door bell and hear Mr Lydon approach. My heartbeat is as steady as my breath, I am confident about myself and my task. Mr Lydon opens and looks at me, questioning. He doesn't recognise me. To him, I have been just a stranger in the crowd, but I remember every word he said that day we met.

I have no difficulties in convincing him of my harmlessness. He asks me into the house and I scorn him even more for not being suspicious at all about my lame pretense. He even turns his back to me and lets me knock him unconscious with no effort. I tie him up and prepare everything while I am waiting for him to wake up.

He wakes up long enough to realise I am bleeding him but soon faints anew. He is not going to wake up again. For a moment, I regret that he doesn't get to suffer longer, but this is not really about him. It's about what I make of him. For you.

I carefully collect the blood. As it stops flowing, I open the body and remove the heart. It's inconvenient to cook in such a poorly equipped kitchen as Mr Lydon's, but I can cope. This is not about me. And at least, I brought some ingredients.

I serve dinner, then I go, leaving a window open for you to get in easily. I want you to enjoy what I made for you unbothered.

You are used to small gifts on a regular basis from me, and I feel you have rewarded me well. You are unpredictable but not unbribable, and I long to make sure to stay in your favour. Recently, you gave my life an unexpected and important turn, and therefore I express my gratitude in a special way."

 

Will opened his eyes again. He blinked and shook his head, then he opened the door.

"Jack!" he called hoarsely. His boss was at his side within a second. "It's the Ripper." Will stated matter-of-factly.

Jack looked at him in disbelief. "Was he interrupted? Or too hungry to act the usual way? The body is just lying on the carpet, no perverse sculpturing - instead he used the kitchen to have a nice meal of body parts on the spot. You sure it's the Ripper?"

"It looks different this time because the purpose is different. This is a sacrifice." Will gestured towards the different bowls on the window sills around the room. Then he had a closer look at each of them. There were only small remains of a dark sauce in some of them, traces of raw blood in others.

"And it has been accepted."

 

There was an unusual amount of traces left at the crime scene. Finger prints all over the bowls, a few denim threads stuck on the window frame, a single red hair sticking to the left over blood in one of the bowls.

Will was sure the traces would lead them nowhere.

"So, is this some kind of whacked out game the Ripper and his friend are playing?" Jack asked. Will could hear the irritation in his voice about not understanding what was going on. Damn, how could the man do his job everyday if he could not stand not having a clue sometimes? "Or does he really believe his friend is some kind of blood thirsty fairy? Or does the friend believe it?"

Will sighed. "They both believe." And I do, too, he thought. Was he getting crazy? The traces looked unquestionably human, but he didn't feel a human being behind them. Instead, he felt the presence of - well, someone else. He never had felt something like this before, but some part of him was sure they were dealing with what they call a "supernatural being" here. Although he didn't think that was a correct term. There was nothing not natural about the recipient of the sacrifice, they were just not human. 

And there was something else Will sensed with unmistakable clarity: The Ripper's "friend", as Jack had called them, was still around, watching them.

Will could not read their mind like a human's. But he sensed both satisfaction and curiousity. Whoever that being was, they had never received a sacrifice like this, and chances were the experience would change them.

He decided not to tell Jack. There was no immediate danger, if he could trust his instincts. Which he was not so sure about anymore, to be honest. But it were the same instincts that told him that the being was there and that they meant no harm. So he decided that either both of it was right or both of it was wrong. Not telling about the presence he felt should be okay either way. And if he was completely nuts and had made it all up, he really didn't want Jack to notice. Or anyone. Except for Dr Lecter perhaps. His paddle. Well, he could figure it out later. They didn't have any appointment during the next couple of days, so he had some time to decide on what he wanted to tell.

Will was relieved when Jack finally let him go home. Their observer had gone a while before, he felt this as clearly as he had felt them being there before.

 

As Will returned from a long walk with his dogs in the evening, he noticed a movement in the bushes near his house. As he looked closer, a face appeared between the branches and stared at him. It was gone a second later, but he had seen it clearly: The white of the eyes nearly glowing in the dim light of dusk, the pale face framed by wild red hair and an equally red beard with traces of something dark in it. Will guessed for blood.

He knew he should be frightened, but he wasn't. The dogs were completely unimpressed although they had obviously noticed the creature. None of their business, it seemed.

Will decided to mind his own business, too, and took the pack into the house without looking at the bushes again. Perhaps it was weird, but he felt completely at ease - except for a soft melancholy, or perhaps a slight yearning for something he could not quite place. He spent the rest of the evening in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the dogs, petting them and thinking of nothing in particular.

Before he went to bed, he put some milk in a bowl and placed it on the porch. It just felt like the thing to do at the moment.

This night, he slept long and unbothered by nightmares for the first time in months.


End file.
